The Waking Dead
written August 25, 2001
(Note: I've often thought of this poem more as song lyrics with the last stanza as the chorus)
she sits in silence
while tears roll down her face
tracing a river of pain
a war within rages
but she cannot say a word
she moves throughout her life
like a machine, doing what she needs
flying on auto pilot
not caring where she goes
how she gets there
or when she will arrive
it's all the same in her own mind
you think she sees you
but she just looks right through you
there's not a person there anymore
just a corpse
just an empty shell
like roses, we shower her with pills
anything to make her feel free
anything to set her soul at ease
anything to make her believe
that somehow, she can feel
